This Is How It's Gonna End
by Fantasywriter14
Summary: Elle is Sylar's worst nightmare. Sylar & Elle. Short Story.


**Disclaimer: **Yeah, yeah, yeah. I own nothing, so don't sue me.

**Author's Note: **Just something I wrote when I was bored. I was in a Syelle mood, like usual... It's actually kind of twisted, and even a little bit pointless, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless.

Spoilers for Volume 3, up until The Eclipse: Part Two

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_This Is How It's Gonna End_

Sylar had no idea where he was. One moment he had been lying in bed, and the next he was standing in a dark room, alone and disoriented. He lifted up a hand and couldn't see it; he took a deep breath only to inhale thick, musky air. The empty blackness reminded him of a prison cell, and that brought back bad memories . . . What was this place, if not his own worst nightmare? And why was he here?

He was about to give up hope when a blue light flickered and sizzled ahead of him, seizing his attention – electricity. Sylar lifted his hand again to shield his eyes against the sudden bright flash, taking a cautious step forward. In that moment, Sylar was reminded of his visit to Elle Bishop's prison cell not too long ago; the situation was identical.

But Elle Bishop, along with any chance of redemption, was gone – dead. Sylar had killed her. So who else could it be? Who else had Elle's ability? Certainly no one that Sylar knew, other than Peter, but what would Peter be doing here?

"Elle?" Sylar called into the darkness, unsure of what else to say. What else could be said? If this really was Elle – and he was sure it was – what could he possibly say to explain himself? She would most likely be angry with him for what he did to her. He knew it was her, though. Even though he had yet to catch sight of the stranger's face, he knew it.

The blue light went out instantly like a candle blown out by the wind, and Elle stepped forward.

Sylar hadn't been able to see his own hand in front of his face, but he saw Elle. Her body was illuminated by some sort of unknown source, her white skin glowing mysteriously. This made her look even more beautiful than Sylar remembered.

"Oh, it's you," she said carelessly, not at all like she'd been dead a few days ago. "You killed me."

Her words startled Sylar; he blinked once and remained silent, as if he could somehow hide from Elle in the pitch black room. The way her blue eyes flashed when she spoke was enough to stop his heart.

"Gabriel? I can see you." How did she know he was trying to hide? "Would you stop staring at me? Just say something."

"Like what?" he asked, trying to sound nonchalant. "You're dead."

Elle grinned, moving forward until they were almost touching. Sylar could feel her gentle breath against his neck, her body heat intermingling with his in a sinister, tormenting sort of way. Having her in front of him, well within his reach, was hard to bear. She reached up a hand to stroke his cheek and he grabbed her shoulders, pushing her down slowly like he had that grim day at the beach when he had killed her. She didn't seem to mind at all.

When they were both on their knees, Elle let her hand fall limply to her side, lowering her head and sighing.

"I know, I know," she began, "but I'm not dead anymore, Gabriel. Not here. Not now."

Sylar studied her face intensely, confused. "What do you mean?"

"Never mind. It doesn't even matter. We're here now, aren't we?"

That wasn't the answer he wanted to hear. Sylar had killed her, and now she was back. How could that be possible? Unless this was all just a dream . . . That was likely, however much he didn't want to believe it.

Sylar pushed her away, causing her to fall flat on her rear end. Elle looked up at him angrily. She was obviously surprised by his sudden show of aggression. Sylar himself was surprised. One moment he had been happy to see her again, almost ready to give in to her charms, and the next he was pushing her back.

"You're dead," he repeated, "and this is a dream."

"So what? We can do whatever we want in our dreams. I can be whatever you want!"

"Stop it, Elle!" Sylar snapped. He shook his head furiously and ran a hand through his dark hair. "I don't want this! I don't want you. That's why I killed you, Elle. I got sick of having you around. I don't want you around anymore."

"You want? What about what I want, Gabriel?"

"I don't care what you want."

Her expression softened again, her pink lips pursed as if she had tasted something sweet. It was an odd expression considering the circumstances. "Kiss me. Please? Just once."

Sylar considered it. Her lips were right there – sweet and enthralling. What was the harm in kissing her? The only thing stopping him was the fact that this was a dream, and Elle wasn't real. Kissing her would be a mistake. Besides, he had killed her for a reason. However much he had liked her, Elle had been a weakness. Having her around had been a liability.

"No," he finally said.

Elle flinched. "Why not?"

Sylar immediately realized that she had never been rejected.

"I can't."

She frowned, sticking out her bottom lip in a not-so-seductive sort of way. It only made her look ridiculous. Why, then, was Sylar so attracted to her in those short few seconds? The newfound attraction was so intense, he leaned forward and forced his lips upon hers, grabbing her face with his hands.

Elle gasped, taken unawares by the sudden kiss. Her lips sparked, electricity crackling, giving Sylar a slight shock. He ignored the pain, focusing instead on how real everything seemed. Elle, the kiss, the jolt . . . How could this be a dream? As Elle returned his kiss, she pushed him back and lay on top of him, causing the electricity to build up. The pain only intensified.

The first time they had kissed, they had been powerless. There had been no pain. This was better. Sylar and Elle were cursed – they were both damaged goods. Their relationship could never be painless.

When the two finally broke apart, Elle spoke up. "I'm sorry it had to end like this, Gabriel." Her eyes were bright, her face smooth and gentle, but a hint of evil intent was hidden behind that false demeanor. In that instant, Sylar knew that something was wrong. Sylar knew what Elle was going to do, and he had no time to say anything more.

Elle gripped his shoulders roughly, causing a current of electricity to enter his body. He was forced to let out an agonized cry as the lightning reverberated inside of him. In this nightmare, death was inevitable.

The last thing he saw before the dream faded was Elle's beautiful face as she looked down at him, her expression blank and unreadable.

Revenge really was sweet.


End file.
